SuperWhoLock
by Mishapocalypse
Summary: "So… What? This guy just appears throughout history?" Dean asked through a mouthful of greasy diner burger. He swallowed before continuing; "have you considered maybe you came across a bunch of people that just happen to look similar?"
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Supernatural or Doctor Who, nor do I own their characters. 'Tis just fanfic, bro, no need to sue.

**Characters:** In this chapter the only characters are Sam and Dean, with mentions of the Doctor and Bobby.

**Summary:** Sam finds traces of the Doctor online, but Dean is skeptical.

**A/N:** So like, I'm sick of trying to find a decent SuperWhoLock fic that's updated often, so I've decided to make one of my own. Nothing much happens in this chapter, I admit, but I'm just getting back into the groove of writing fanfiction (don't read anything else of mine on this site for the love of god they're all from years ago). Anyway if all goes as planned this will be a 20+ chapter fic. Also I'm making it up as I go, but if it'll make you feel better if I have a plan then yeah, I have a plan. Okay yeah story time kthxbye xoxo

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**Chapter One**

**-Chaos Theory-**

**By Bonnie (that's me)**

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Most of the time, when the Winchesters were searching for jobs, deciphering whether or not a case was of supernatural origin was black and white. It was really quite simple; anything that couldn't be explained by the standard model of reality was a cause for alarm. And if there ever came a time when they were genuinely uncertain, they would check it out anyway.

However, this time Sam was sure he had found something that, in his opinion, wasn't as easy to deal with.

"So… What? This guy just appears throughout history?" Dean asked through a mouthful of greasy diner burger. He swallowed before continuing; "have you considered maybe you came across a bunch of people that just happen to look similar?"

Sam sighed, sending his brother an annoyed look from across the table. "Yeah, and they just happen to be wearing the same exact clothes too? Just take a look- he's not the only one either."

He turned his laptop around so Dean could see the screen, which was cluttered with photos of different settings from around the world. One of the better quality images was of a jam session between the Beatles; and in the bottom right-hand corner lounged a floppy haired man with long limbs. The same man that was present within many of the other pictures as well.

"Son of a bitch," Dean muttered, pushing his plate to the side so he could pull the laptop closer. His brow furrowed with curiosity as he scrolled through the images, stopping on one every so often and leaning in to get a closer look.

"And there's more than one guy?" he asked. His finger was an inch away from the screen as he pointed out another picture, one that had clearly been taken sometime in the Edwardian era. He indicated a man in the background who donned clothing that quite evidently did not coincide with the time period (a leather jacket and a purple V-neck?)

Sam nodded eagerly, looking around the small restaurant as he bent forward, "there's a lot more. I've found evidence on seven so far, and we're not the first ones to notice them. It's like one of those internet conspiracy theories; there's forums about them, entire websites…"

Dean's demeanour suddenly changed to one of indifference at the mention of conspiracy theories, and he sat back in the cushioned diner booth. "_C'mon_, Sammy. If we checked out every crazy story on the web we'd never catch a break. Most of them are fake anyway," he scoffed, dipping a French fry in ketchup.

There was a moment of silence as Sam pursed his lips, clearly piqued. Why was his brother being so dismissive?

Dean just glanced up at him with his eyebrows raised.

"Look, dude," the younger Winchester began. He gestured to his laptop, "there's no way these are all fake-"

"Photoshop. Theorists are pretty techy these days."

"Yeah but there are personal accounts, real stories-"

"How do you know?"

"Legitimate _news_ articles-"

"You mean like how we have legitimate FBI badges?"

The two brothers ceased their banter for a moment, looking around to see if anyone had heard Dean's last comment, before turning back to glare at each other.

"Why are you so hung up on this, Sammy? Is this what you spent all last night reading about? Of all the, the _conspiracy_ theories and _creepypasta_ stories on the web, _this _is the one you're zeroing in on?" Dean questioned disdainfully. He popped a French fry into his mouth.

Sam, annoyed by Dean's sudden domineering attitude, scowled. "Why are you so _against_ checking this out? There's like, a million different –most likely _fake_- tales about demons, and ghosts, and, and wendigos, vampires and werewolves," he listed off, frustration plaguing his expression.

Dean rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to retort, but whatever words he was about to say died on his lips when he spotted their waitress sauntering up to the table. His nose twitched in annoyance.

"How are you two? Is everything going well?" the blonde asked sweetly, curling a strand of hair around her finger. Her lips, which obviously sported a brand new coating of lipstick, pulled into a coy smile as her eyes flitted to Dean- who had shamelessly flirted with her when the boys first arrived. Unfortunately Dean had forgotten the connection he had previously made her believe they had, and brushed her off with a simple "we're dandy, thanks," and a bitter smile. The waitress, crestfallen, left them with the bill and walked off without another word.

"I just don't think it'd be a bad idea if we looked more into this," Sam managed to get in before Dean could say anything; "It's worth a shot."

Dean looked at Sam like he was insane. "Where would we even begin!? As far as we know this is just a bunch of weirdos who've been running around, photobombing everyone for years. What links them, dude? What do they all have in common? A messed up hobby and a bad sense of style?"

Another bout of silence descended upon the pair, and Sam grimaced. Dean peered at him expectantly; "well?"

"There's one thing…" Sam mumbled, not meeting Dean's eyes. When the shorter Winchester didn't reply he exhaled sharply, continuing; "a police public callbox from 1930s London. It's been spotted in a lot of pictures in time periods where they weren't in use anymore. I wasn't sure it had anything to do with these men, but I saw it mentioned on a lot of the forums. There's also a photo of it in some hieroglyphics found in Egypt-"

Sam was interrupted by a snort of laughter erupting from Dean, who shook his head in disbelief. "You've got to be kidding me, Sammy. A police box? A British police box? What the hell kind of fairy tale is this?" he asked.

Irked, Sam was somehow able to keep a calm composure. "There's just something… I don't know, something _familiar_ about the whole thing, yunno? Just hear me out, man. Sure, it might just be another conspiracy theory, but it also might be more than that."

A small sense of triumph began budding inside him once he saw Dean was starting to reconsider the whole thing. In a last ditch effort he added, "why don't we get Bobby's opinion on all this?"

Dean groaned, running a hand through his hair. He looked at Sam's hopeful facial expression before rolling his eyes, "fine, whatever man. We'll see if we can get Bobby to knock some sense into you."


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Supernatural or Doctor Who, nor do I own their characters.

**Characters: **This chapter includes Amy, Rory, and the Eleventh Doctor.

**Summary:** The time travelling trio investigate the source of a vast amount of energy; which is emanating from Earth. Little do they know, they're about to run into something a little bigger than they previously anticipated.

**A/N:** Finally! Chapter two! Sorry it took so long. I'm not entirely happy with the first part of this chapter, but near the end it gets better. Idk. Enjoy the chappy! Please review, to fuel my ego. 3

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**Chapter Two**

**-Demonology-**

**By Bonnie**

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Amelia Pond staggered through the doors of the familiar blue box, the momentum from running carrying her half way into the console room before she was able to halt. Annoyance and frustration plagued her freckled features as she gasped for breath, and she began brushing the sweaty locks of red hair out of her eyes. Once again, the Doctor had ruined a perfectly good adventure.

It was becoming a habit of his –or perhaps it had already been one? Amy knew that she and Rory were far from the first people to ever regularly travel with the Doctor, so naturally they couldn't be the first ones to be exposed to such dangers. Either way, however, the bow tie wearing alien was definitely getting better at thrusting himself and his companions into the nearest life threatening situation, even when he was on the most innocent of excursions. Such as going for a hike on a nearly lifeless planet.

Apparently nearly lifeless just wasn't lifeless enough to keep the darn timelord out of trouble.

After landing, it had taken him all but five minutes to say the wrong thing in the wrong dialect to the wrong local, and it all started going downhill from there –quite literally too, since they had been running down a hill to escape. Though it wasn't quite clear _what_ the Doctor had said that had angered the developing species of alien, Amy could gather from both his panicked ramblings while running and the enraged shouts from the brutes chasing them that they had somehow insulted the planet's royal family.

Typical.

From there they had fled the scene before the hominid creatures could detain them for their supposed crimes, and thankfully they had fled in the correct direction. It had all happened in a blur, after all, and they had forgotten the exact location of the TARDIS. It was just lucky that the conscious piece of timelord technology had decided to find them herself.

"Amy!" called a familiar voice, snapping the ginger out of her brooding reverie. She lifted her head toward the doors of the time machine just in time to see Rory barreling toward her, and then smiled. The wave of relief that had just began washing over her, however, was quickly extinguished when she realized her husband wasn't going to be able to slow down in time. She attempted to jump out of the way, but it was too late; Rory crashed into her and the two toppled over. They landed in a heap of awkward angles and entangled limbs, and discovered just how solid the floor of Sexy really was.

Seconds after Rory's clumsy arrival, the Doctor trotted over the TARDIS threshold and into the console room. "Ponds!" he exclaimed when he spotted the fallen couple. Though his eyes widened in panic, his reflexes were sharper than those of the two humans, and he was able to leap over them at the last second. He landed on his feet and ran a few more steps before gripping onto the TARDIS control panel to anchor himself down. With a flick of a few switches and the turn of a few nozzles, the experienced time traveller had the lights on, the doors locked, and the Police Public Call Box that harboured them all dematerializing before Amy and Rory could even begin to right themselves. He waited until they were floating in a galaxy far, far away before turning to his companions and clapping his hands together. "Now how was that for an adventurous nature hike, eh!? Quite exciting! _Very_ quite exciting."

There was a moment of silence as Amy and Rory simply gaped at the Doctor in disbelief.

"No, no, no, no, never mind. Bad. Dangerous. Got it, sorry about that. Won't happen again! Where to now?"

Another moment of silence.

Finally Amy groaned, shaking her head at the Doctor. "Uhm, Doctor, how about a small break before we take off again, yeah?" she suggested tiredly, placing a hand on her hip. "Not sure about Rory over here, but I, personally, can only handle about one near death experience per hour."

Rory quickly nodded in agreement.

It took a second for it to register in the Doctor's mind that Amy and Rory were in fact very human, and not centuries old timelords like himself. He quickly realized that, due to his excitement from finally having Amy and Rory as full time companions, he had forgotten they had to deal with the basic necessities of human life. They couldn't just jump from time period to planet to time period without sleeping every twelve hours, and eating every four.

Oh well, he was okay with that. In fact, he was sure he could make it easier on them.

"Right! Yes! Not to worry, Ponds," he reassured, turning back to the main console. With light steps and jaunty movements the Doctor danced around the control panels, pressing buttons and pulling levers as he once again prepared the TARDIS for travel.

"A break! A rest! A small one at that. Where did you have in mind? An entire planet made of marshmallows? The remote forests of Tebokkar? Or perhaps New Sempersom City!" Though his tone was light and carefree, he slowly trailed off as something on the TARDIS scanner caught his eye.

"Which is… quite conveniently nicknamed… the city that always… sleeps…"

Eventually he ceased speaking altogether as he paused, taking in what the TARDIS was telling him. His expression grew more and more foreboding the more he read.

"What is it, Doctor?" Rory asked, him and Amy exchanging looks of alarm.

The Doctor didn't look up right away, but when he did it was clear he was attempting to hide the depth of his concern, to spare his tired companions.

"Oh… nothing. Well…" he began, scrunching his nose. "The TARDIS is picking up vast amounts of energy with her scanner. Powerful energy- and if the coordinates are correct, it's coming from Earth," he explained. The timelord ran a hand through his floppy brown hair, furrowing his brow as he glanced back up at the scanner. "But it's impossible. There's nothing that could give off that amount of energy without, well, destroying the planet. Daleks, Cybermen, Silurians, Weeping Angels… nothing! Much less that _sort_ of energy."

Amy, with a bit of hesitance, opened her mouth to speak. "What sort of energy _is_ it?" she asked curiously, arching an eyebrow. She was determined to understand the gravity of the situation as best she could, even if she wouldn't be able to help much. Besides, it was Earth they were talking about, her and Rory's home planet.

The Doctor paused, looking at Amy. "I don't know," he replied rather bluntly. "I've never seen anything like it before. I'm over a thousand years old, Amelia Pond, _and I've never seen anything like it before_."

His mouth pulled into a smile, and in a flash he was back to skipping around the TARDIS console.

"Ponds, I apologize, but that break of yours will have to wait," he informed, grinning at the two humans. "I'm going to land the TARDIS on Earth for a moment and check out these coordinates. Shouldn't be a moment- you won't even notice. Hang on!"

With a slam he pulled down a lever, and suddenly the TARDIS began rocking and bumping around as it sped toward their new destination. Amy was reminded of a pinball machine as she grabbed onto a railing to steady herself; they were the balls and the TARDIS was the violent and unrelenting machine. Incredibly violent and unrelenting.

She couldn't help but notice that it was much more violent and unrelenting than usual.

The ginger looked up sharply to see what the Doctor was playing at, but she was shocked to see him just as scared and confused as she felt.

"Doctor! What's going on!?" she bellowed over the racket created by the TARDIS engines.

The Doctor's forehead creased with worry. "I… I don't know!" he stammered, voice filled with what sounded like a mix of hurt and panic. He was desperately pounding on buttons and tugging on levers- it looked to Amy that he wasn't even doing anything specific anymore, and was in fact just mashing on random controls. "She's refusing to land on the coordinates set by the scanner!"

"Maybe we should take this as a sign!" Rory piped up, but was silenced by a glare from both his travel partners.

Shaking his head, the Doctor leapt toward a larger lever, using his full body weight to push it up. "I'm going to land her right outside the coordinates," he yelled. He flipped down an entire row of switches before continuing, "From there we'll have to travel on foot!"

He continued to struggle and fight with the TARDIS, muttering foreign obscenities under his breath, for another few long and strenuous minutes. Suddenly, the engines quieted until the only sound that was left was the low metallic siren of the breaks. Then even that was silenced after a resonant 'thump!'

They had landed.

For the longest time nobody moved. The trio simply stood in their places, exchanging looks of disorientation. It was unclear what exactly they were waiting for, but Amy had a hunch that the Doctor was expecting something to happen; an explosion maybe, or perhaps another row with the TARDIS? Either way, the five minutes of silence was uneventful.

"Well, here we are!" the Doctor proclaimed finally, once he was sure there wouldn't be any aftershock. He glanced at the Ponds, a look of nervousness on his face that unsettled Amy more than it should have. He was the Doctor after all, to some the most feared being in existence. If he was worried, even in the slightest, how were she and Rory supposed to cope?

With a snap of the Doctor's fingers, the TARDIS doors opened almost reluctantly. Amy, dragging Rory along with her, took her place behind the timelord as he slowly edged toward the exit, peering hesitantly through the doorway. Gravel crunched underneath their feet as the group slowly made their way outside the time machine, examining their surroundings and gathering the bearings of their new environment.

They were in a town, that much was obvious, and a small one at that. The road they were on was old and riddled with potholes, leading the way through a stereotypical suburban neighbourhood. The one thing that stood out the most, however, was the evident lack of people.

Amy waited for the Doctor to say something, to explain where they were, and why the population of the town seemed to had vanished long before they arrived, but was left dissatisfied. All she had to do was look at him to know that he didn't know any more than she and Rory did.

Swallowing, the Doctor took one last look at the TARDIS, parked right in the middle of the street, before he started walking. Amy and Rory followed suit.

The farther they got into town, the more disconcerted they became. It was clear that the people of the town had not had any warning before disappearing; cars were left running, shopping bags and cellphones had been dropped to the ground, and the lights of many houses were left on. The most disturbing factor though, was that not _everyone_ had disappeared. No, there were a few stragglers, lifeless and sprawled across the ground. Murdered in cold blood. Messy, bloody, random. There had been no purpose to their deaths other than pure slaughter, and it made the three of them sick.

"What happened?" Rory asked hoarsely, paling as he caught a glimpse of a particularly gruesome body. His voice was almost an intrusion to the silence that had fallen upon the trio, echoing eerily down the street. Before anyone could reply though, the ominous sound of multiple footfalls filled the air.

The three time travellers started whipping their heads around, trying to decipher which direction the noise was coming from –and dreading who or what it belonged to. They all froze when off in the distance, two figures turned the corner and onto the same street. The strangers paused for a moment as they sized up Amy, Rory, and the Doctor, before smirking and sprinting toward them. Three more people exited three different houses, stared at the trio, and then joined the pursuit. The looks on their faces, their expressions of pure delight and alacrity, were explicit indications that they had been the butchers responsible for the town's immense death toll.

"Doctor," Amy stammered, stumbling backwards. "Doctor, what do we do?"

The Doctor blanched, looking up and down the street as he took a few steps back. More and more of the atypical humans were looking through windows and exiting buildings, macabre grins plastered across their faces. Some sauntered toward them, some ran full tilt, but they all had fresh blood splattered across their bodies in some way or another.

"Run," the Doctor decreed finally. He looked to Amy, and then to Rory, before he turned on his heel and began hotfooting it down the road. "Come along, Ponds!"

Amy and Rory exchanged a look of pure, absolute, terror. Despite the fact that they were already tuckered out from their earlier bout of running, the instinctual part of their brain that strove for survival kicked into overdrive. Hot adrenaline began pumping through their veins, and the couple darted after the Doctor as fast as they could. Fleeing from psychotic mass murderers was much scarier than ducking under alien law, and the threat of death kept them running through their sore feet and raw lungs.

The trio, with the Doctor in the lead, scampered through an alleyway. They were forced to stagger to a halt, however, to avoid running headlong into the brick wall on the other end.

"No…" the Doctor breathed, placing a hand on the wall. He looked around the empty alley, panic and desperation dropping into his stomach like a stone. There was nothing there. He had lead them to a dead end. It was too late to exit the alley now; they would only bump right into their pursuers.

He had essentially doomed Amy and Rory.

"No…" he repeated. He swallowed, running both his hands through his hair and closing his eyes tight. Just as the deranged murderers arrived at the entrance of the alley, the Doctor turned to face the Ponds. His eyes glimmered with what looked like unshed tears.

"I'm sorry," he choked. Amy shook her head, repeatedly whispering 'no' under her breath. It was all she could do as the three of them turned to face their fate, pressing their backs up against the wall.

The crowd of people slowly walked toward them. Most of them brandished knives and other weapons, but some of them simply preferred using their bare hands. Now that they were up close, it was clear that they all had a single shared feature; their eyes, they were black. Not just the iris, the entire eyeball was a dark, inky black.

One of them stepped forward, apart from the crowd. It was a girl, a teenager, about fourteen years old. She giggled as she ambled toward Amy, licking the dark blood off her dagger.

"I love your hair," she whispered, holding the knife up to Amy's neck. "The color. I love the color. Soon the rest of your body will be the _same_ color." She smirked as she pressed the serrated side of the dagger into the Scot's freckled skin, though only enough to draw blood. Her stygian eyes bored into Amy's own golden brown ones, amused by the ginger's horror. She wasn't just going to kill Amy. No, no, she was going to make her _suffer_.

The girl suddenly coughed rather violently. Her eyes went wide, and her knife fell to the floor with an echoing clatter. She stumbled backwards, hands flying to her mouth as she coughed again –this time a small amount of ebony colored smoke bubbling from her nose and mouth.

Soon she wasn't the only one suffering from the fit. Her partners began coughing as well, hacking up more and more smoke. Expressions of dread and dismay crossed over each of their faces, and then all of a sudden, in unison, their faces turned upward. The black smoke began discharging out of their mouths at full force, shooting toward the sky. Pained screams escaped their lips along with the charcoal colored fumes, until the lot of them collapsed onto the ground in a heap of unconscious, blood covered bodies.

A long, stupefied silence then filled the alley. Amy, Rory, and the Doctor stood rooted to the ground, completely and utterly stunned with what had just occurred.

With an audible 'whoosh' Amy let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. Her shoulders slumped and she slid to the ground, feeling drained. Her whole body felt weak from what they had just experienced; her arms like noodles, knees like jello, her heart fluttering against her chest like a caged bird trying to escape. Shaky and trembling, she lifted her hand to feel the cut on her neck.

Rory, eyes wide and face pale, turned to face the Doctor.

"What the bloody hell just happened!?"


	3. Quick Update

**Author's Note:**

A small hiatus for this story. Sorry! It's just, well, I need to rewatch Sherlock :3 Kind of embarrassing, but I sat down to write the next chapter and found I couldn't really capture the character's personalities properly anymore. So it'll take me about 3-4 days to watch the whole show when I get around to it (1 day if 1 episode is enough to jog my memory), and maybe another 2-3 days to write the chapter if I feel the right motivation. Again, sorry! I'll upload the chapter _as soon_ as it's done! Xoxo


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